Love Comes Softly
by LostInBlueSkies
Summary: Emotional S/G stuff, plus the added bonus of another couple..you'll have to read to find out who...Chapter 10 added, last chapter.
1. Awakening

Love Comes Softly  
  
  
  
Disclaimers: This title actually belongs to the Janette Oke book with the same name, but I'm sure she won't mind that I used it. This story is mine and only mine!  
  
Notes: Sorry, I just had to put them together...  
  
Thanks: Tash! Thanks for reviewing this before I posted it, and for all the encouragement!  
  
  
  
She woke slowly, the light breeze blowing her hair across her half- open eyes. She watched the sun through the window, a purple-pink haze lifting itself above the clouds. Hearing him stir beside her, she sighed softly, contented. She saw his arm automatically drape itself over her stomach. His voice was quiet, muffled slightly by sleepiness and the presence of the mattress directly underneath his mouth.  
  
"Morning Cath."  
  
"Morning." She said lightly, yawning and turning to face him. "How did you sleep?"  
  
"Good." He replied. "Too good. I'm officially obsessed with this mattress."  
  
She laughed, blinked twice and shuffled closer to him to give him a quick kiss. "That's great news."  
  
"Oh, and why is that?" He asked, smiling slightly and running a finger across her cheek.  
  
"Well, that means you'll be coming over more often." She said, and giggled when he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"That's true, but it's not just because of the mattress." He said, and kissed her softly. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes in ecstacy. "You smell so good.."  
  
"That reminds me, I should take a shower before we go." She crawled over him and out of bed, pretending to ignore the way he begged her to stay with him. Before she shut the door of the bathroom, she poked her head out and grinned at him. "Get dressed before Lindsey walks in and sees you like that."  
  
"Right." He was suddenly wide awake, grabbing his pants from the ground and struggling to put them on. She laughed at him, but said nothing until he was done. "Any reason you're not showering?" He asked her.  
  
"No... just... " She hesitated before saying, "Warrick?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She stopped, shaking her head. "Nothing. I'll be out in five minutes." And she shut the door.  
  
  
  
Grissom was waiting patiently in his office, today's newspaper spread out before him along with a glass of ice water and an orange. His dinner. Finally she appeared in the doorway, gave him a small wave and put a hand in her left pants pocket. "What's up?"  
  
"Nothing much." He answered simply, trying not to react to what she was wearing. A blue tank top and tight jeans. Her hair was down, and the light breeze coming in through the window swept it across her face. "You look good tonight, hot date?"  
  
She chuckled softly. "Sure. With Doc Robbins." Upon his surprised expression she held up her beeper. "He's got our body."  
  
"Right." He stood up, carefully folding his newspaper and drinking the last of his water.  
  
"You never ate your orange." She said, concern edging her face.  
  
"Not hungry." He stated simply, picking the orange up and tossing it towards her. "You eat it."  
  
"I had a heavy supper." She said, but caught the orange and placed it on one of the many shelves that lined the room. "Eat it later, OK?"  
  
At first he shrugged, but once he looked up and saw her serious expression he nodded. "OK." They started to walk towards the morgue, but he stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. "Sara..." She read the lines in his face as exhaustion. As stress.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Say something to me. Anything." He requested, his fingers lightly massaging his temples. She frowned, but then realization dawned on her features and her eyes grew soft. "Turn your head away and say something."  
  
She turned her head to look at the opposing wall and said, "I'm glad you noticed the way I'm dressed." She didn't look at him after she said it, but waited. She prayed to God he had heard her, that he wasn't deaf yet.  
  
"Well, you do look very nice." He replied. She grinned and they continued to walk to the morgue. 


	2. Electricity

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
Disclaimers: Blah blah blah, I don't own these characters! Or this show! But this IS my story! LOL  
  
Notes: Once again, I'm sorry, I just HAD to put them together..  
  
Thanks: Thanks again to Tash, and also Mooni, who so nicely reviewed this fan fic even though she's only watched the show once. Yes, I am getting desperate for beta readers. LOL, ;)  
  
Enjoy, and please review otherwise I'm not writing anymore!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
At the breakfast table, Lindsey entertained Warrick and Catherine with several stories about her time at the babysitter's during their shift. Catherine loved to watch Warrick smile, the way his whole face lit up. She found she liked it best when Warrick was happy, in fact, she worked hard to make sure he always was.  
  
She was glad that keeping him happy was a hell of a lot easier than keeping Eddie had been. She remembered distinctly the way he had hit her if she didn't have his dinner ready on time, or if she had to work an extra shift and he would have to bring Lindsey somewhere. She always knew when he was in a bad mood, the way his eyes shone and flashed gave it away.  
  
She stared at Warrick, a man eight years her junior. They had been sleeping together for three months now. She would have loved to be able to say they were dating, but the fact was that they had never been on a date. Not yet, anyway. They were too busy, and they were afraid that one of the other CSI's would see them. Catherine didn't know why they were afraid, but the feeling had always been there and neither of them did anything to make it go away.  
  
She loved him, she knew she did. She told herself every morning and every night, the tricky part was telling him. She woke up staring into his gentle eyes, and fell asleep watching them slowly shut. Her life was about him now, about making him happy and seeing him smile, about getting him to say the things she didn't dare to.  
  
He was aware of her eyes on him, so he looked up and watched as a grin slowly spread across her face. Nothing about her appearance was out of place, that was one of the many reasons he loved her so much. She dressed simply, but she always managed to look sexy. Her hand reached across the table and grabbed his, and he thanked God at that very moment that she had been brought into his life. He smiled remembering that night...  
  
  
  
"Cath, we've been here all night. Everybody else is gone, and this case is pretty much solved. Why are you stalling, can we just go home already?" Warrick pleaded, half-sitting half-lying in his chair. They were the only two people left in the building.  
  
Catherine was bent over a stack of papers, reading quietly. She looked up at the sound of his voice, and nodded shortly. "I guess. But I'm taking these home." She motioned toward the case file. "Something doesn't feel right and I want to know what it is."  
  
"Whatever." He said, grabbing her jacket from the coat-rack and helping her put it on. She shivered at the presence of his fingertips, lightly resting on her shoulders. She didn't dare to turn to face him to be sure, but she wondered if he felt the shock of electricity that went through her at his touch.  
  
He got his coat, shrugged it on and looked at her with an unrecognizable expression. "You need something heavier than that, Warrick. It's cold outside." He kept looking at her. She didn't know what else to say. "Believe it or not, it does get cold in this city sometimes."  
  
He half-smiled. "I know, Cath. I've lived here my whole life."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Right." He fingered the fringe on her jacket. "This doesn't seem so heavy, either." They were both aware of the fact that their conversation was pathetic. The air was thick with emotion. She stared at his hand, un- moving, until..  
  
He pulled her towards him, his eyes searching her face for something, anything that would tell him that this was OK. She nodded slowly, and pressed her lips to his. Electricity coursed through both of them and she stopped him to say, "Are you sure we're alone?"  
  
  
  
Nicky was driving to the crime scene in his own Tahoe. His reason was that he didn't know how much more of Sara's taste in music he could take. Sara had only laughed, shoving him away from her and turning to go into Grissom's vehicle.  
  
"You're not taking yours?" Nick asked.  
  
"Nah. I prefer company." She said, setting her kit down in the back seat.  
  
"Grissom's company." Nick mumbled, then got into the Tahoe and drove away before she could reply. She was still wearing a shocked expression when Grissom arrived.  
  
"Ready to go?" He asked her, recognizing the scent around him as hers. When she answered with only a nod, he frowned.  
  
"Something wrong?" He hated asking so many questions without getting any answers. It seemed that Sara never told him enough about herself; what she was feeling or thinking. He had no idea why he always wanted to know so badly.  
  
"No." She answered curtly, climbing into the Tahoe and waiting silently for him to do the same. He did, but he was still concerned.  
  
"Nicky upset you?" He asked, turning on the engine.  
  
"I told you nothing was wrong."  
  
"Pardon?" His reply was enough to make her short of breath. Her head changed positions from looking at her shoes to looking into his eyes. She wiped away a silent, careless tear. She had forgotten. How many times in one day did she forget?  
  
"I said not to worry; nothing's wrong." He turned back to the road. He said nothing, but she knew he had heard her this time.  
  
They drove in silence a few minutes before she spoke again. "How am I supposed to talk to you, you know, when you've gone completely deaf? How am I sup-" she was cut off by the tightening in her throat that seemed so often to be there. It was there to taunt her, she was sure, but nonetheless she bent her head down and cried a little to make it go away.  
  
He didn't answer her, and she wondered for a horrifying moment if he had even heard her at all. But one look at his facial features and her fears were put to rest. His eyes were clouded and he took a shaky breath.  
  
"We'll figure something out. Let's not talk about that right now. I don't want to think about it."  
  
"You never do." She said, defending her cause. "I just want you to hear me speaking to you as much as possible until you can't anymore. Until you can't hear anything anymore." She was aware that he was growing more and more agitated as she spoke, his hand tightening on the steering-wheel, his face setting in a grave, serious expression. One even more serious than he usually wore.  
  
"Come on Gris, let's talk about this-"  
  
"Damn it, Sara!" He yelled, slamming on the brakes and making the tires on the Tahoe screech. "I don't want to talk about it, alright?! Just leave me the hell alone!"  
  
The tears were starting again, she could feel them threatening to spill out of the sides of her eyes. She tried to shake her head free of this devastation, of this horrible, terrible sadness that was engulfing her. But to no avail; whenever she closed her eyes she saw Gil. Standing, enclosed in silence.  
  
As mad as he was, he still reached forward to gently push her back against her seat. Regret filled his eyes, but he did not apologize. He didn't need to, Sara could tell by his face he was sorry.  
  
"Let's just go and solve this damn crime." She muttered, too ashamed of herself for crying to do anything but look out the window and wipe away the tears from her face.  
  
"Sara, I.." He hesitated. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up like that."  
  
She shook her head. "I know." She rolled down her window and let the wind tear at her face. "I know." 


	3. The Bush

Love Comes Softly  
  
Part 3  
  
Disclaimers: Characters and the show C.S.I. belong to CBS, Anthony Zuiker and whoever else gets paid more than I do.  
  
Notes: After reading all the nice reviews I got for part 1 and 2, I decided to try and write this as quickly as possible. Thanks goes to Tash, Mooni, and anyone else who took the time to e-mail me and tell me how much they're liking this. Sorry this took so long, six words: Toronto and Carolina went into overtime.  
  
And now we get into the REAL angst.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
  
  
She sat at the kitchen table, her hands covering her face. She didn't dare to look up, not even when she heard Warrick come into the house, calling out her name. She was still wiping the tears from her eyes when he entered the room and saw her.  
  
"Cat?" He walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "Are you crying?"  
  
She didn't answer, didn't move to acknowledge his presence. "Oh Jeez Cath, I'm still so sorry about last night. I didn't mean to say it, I was just stressed and-"  
  
"Warrick." She said simply, putting a hand on his forearm, but not lifting her head. He stopped short, he didn't understand what was going on.  
  
She looked at him, finally, and her cheeks were stained with freshly fallen tears. "It's not you." He was still confused, but reached out to hold her. He couldn't stand to see her like this, he wanted to help her but he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was wrong.  
  
"What happened?" He was afraid, the fear was building up in his stomach, tying his insides into knots.  
  
"It's Lindsey. Warrick, she's been hit by a car. They're not sure if she'll make it." The words brought a fresh batch of tears, but this time he didn't reach down to hold her. He wasn't sure if he could even help himself stay standing. He felt as if he had been slammed in the face with a crowbar.  
  
His groping hand found the back of a chair, and he slowly sat down. His eyes, wide, were still set on Catherine's face as she looked at him. Waiting for him to say something, anything.  
  
"I went to the hospital as quickly as I could, I sped the whole way there. They wouldn't let me in the room, I'm her mother and they wouldn't let me in! I called and called you, but you didn't answer...finally I just went home because I knew you'd be here soon and I wanted to make sure you knew where I was. I didn't want you to find out from anyone else." She knew she was rambling, but she didn't care. If he wasn't going to talk, she was. She couldn't stand the silence.  
  
He shook his head, running his fingers over his face again and again. She saw the beginning of a tear forming in the corner of one of his eyes, and her heart broke. She reached out to hold him, afraid he would turn her away, but he didn't. He grabbed her, wrapped his arms tightly around her, so tightly she thought she couldn't breathe.  
  
But she didn't mind. It was comforting, almost, the way he sobbed into her shoulder. Her own tears wet the blue cashmere of his sweater, her own loud cries pierced the darkness around them. They rocked back and forth, sharing a chair in the middle of her kitchen.  
  
  
  
Grissom sat in the break room, leaning over a sheet of paper with a puzzled expression on his face. Sara entered the room, and seeing him sitting there she smiled inwardly. Coffee with Grissom, she couldn't imagine a better way to spend her evening.  
  
"Hey Gil!" She greeted, watching as he turned to her and smiled.  
  
"Hey Sara. I'm just working on a crossword puzzle." He went back to his paper, scratching it a bit with his pencil.  
  
"Toughy?" She asked, taking a sip of coffee and standing over him. She pretended to be interested in the puzzle, but she was really engrossed in the smell of his cologne.  
  
"Not really." He wrote something down and grinned. "Finished." She chuckled softly, then lightly rested her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I was thinking..."  
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
"About you and I." His eyes rose to meet hers. He actually looked...hopeful. "We should talk more. About...stuff."  
  
He knew what she meant, Sara only used the word 'stuff' when she was trying to avoid her main goal in the conversation. "Sar-"  
  
"Just hear me out, alright? I mean... I like to watch the news. Believe it or not, I do watch TV. I watch the news everyday. Do you watch anything, in particular?"  
  
He almost laughed- almost. Taking his glasses off and setting them on the table, he exhaled deeply and shook his head. "Sara, do you want to talk about my hearing? Because I will not sit here with you all night and beat around the bush."  
  
"I'm not beating arou-"  
  
"Sara!" He warned her, his eyebrows risen.  
  
"All right, fine." She inched closer to him and bent her head down, ready to ask him the questions that had been haunting her ever since he told her about his illness. Just then Nick burst into the room, his eyes flashing with horrifying fear.  
  
"You guys, come quick! Catherine just called us, her girl's in the hospital!"  
  
Without another word Grissom and Sara grabbed their coats and ran out the door as fast as they could. 


	4. Life Support

Love Comes Softly  
  
Part 4  
  
  
  
Author's notes: Sorry this took me so long! Thanks again to the wonderful people who reviewed the fan fiction so generously and took the time to even read it in the first place. I'm sorry that this is so angsty, but...how else are you going to write people reacting to Lindsey getting hit by a car?  
  
Disclaimers: None. This is my story and you can't have it!!!! (oops, hope I don't get sued)  
  
Thanks: As always, to the wonderful, generous, amazingly nice, and of course talented Tash, who reads my fics and always reviews them :) She also gives me info on CSI since I've only seen like ten eps. Thanks for the summary of the ending of BoP, Tash ;) Let's go Spurs! LOL  
  
Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Three of them sat outside the hospital room, in plastic chairs. Magazines on the coffee table in front of them were left untouched. Heads in their hands, they were the perfect picture of distressed, worried friends.  
  
Catherine had lied about Warrick so he would be allowed to come in to see Lindsey with her. The nurse led them to Lindsey's room. Warrick had noticed Cat had been distant towards him ever since they left the house. He hoped it was nothing permanent, and forced himself to be patient. She would come around.  
  
A small gasp escaped her lips as she walked into the room, seeing her daughter covered in tubes, blood, and sheets. "Linds..." she croaked, floating towards the hospital bed, her hand covering her mouth.  
  
Warrick remained standing in the doorway, just watching her. A mother and a daughter together, where did he belong? He wasn't the step-father, like Catherine had told the nurse. He wasn't even Cat's husband. He was just the secret boyfriend. The rest of the team didn't even know he was in this room, they thought he was at home. How long until they found out the truth, he didn't know, but he wasn't sure how much of this he could take.  
  
He loved Lindsey like a daughter, but knew she would never be rightfully his. To see her lying on the bed, helpless and unconscious made him want to cry, but he wouldn't let himself.  
  
Catherine was crying now, stroking Lindsey's inanimate face with three fingers. Warrick walked over and stood behind her, sighing deeply and saying the only thing that came to his mind. "She'll be OK. I promise." He wasn't sure if he believed it.  
  
Catherine shook her head. "Warrick, don't be naive. We both know she's got about a 40/60 chance of living. That's not even half."  
  
He suddenly felt even more sympathy towards Cat. She had no faith whatsoever, no hope. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Pain and anger washed through him and the hurt showed in his eyes. He backed away from her and the bed, and the little girl he so badly wanted to see, wanted to talk to.  
  
"I know when I'm not welcome." He walked to the door. An apology was on Catherine's face, but she didn't speak it. Turning around, he took one last look at Lindsey before exiting the room, and, for all he knew, her life forever.  
  
  
  
"I wish we could see her." Sara sobbed, fingering the tissue she held in her hand. "I mean, Catherine's in there all alone." Grissom sat beside her, his hand resting on the small of her back. He knew how she felt.  
  
"It's standard hospital procedure. Strictly immediate family." Nick reasoned. Just then Warrick came into the waiting room.  
  
"The doctors are saying she has less than half a chance of living. Cat's devastated, she's also very distant and bitter." Warrick knew he was letting go of their secret, but he didn't care. He loved Catherine, he loved Lindsey, and he knew this was best. "Lindsey looks...horrible, but her face is peaceful."  
  
They stared at him in surprise. "You lied to get in?" Grissom asked.  
  
"Yeah." Warrick answered. They all threw him confused glances.  
  
"But why you and not us...?" Sara started to wonder, but Warrick cut her off.  
  
"Catherine and I have been together for three months now. We're an item." Grissom and Sara looked shocked, but Nick only nodded.  
  
"You knew about this?" Grissom asked him. "How?"  
  
"I caught them making out in the evidence room about two months ago. I kept it to myself because I thought I might be able to use it for blackmail someday." He answered. They all smiled, the first time in hours.  
  
Warrick didn't give any of them a chance to ask questions, he just walked out of the waiting room and back into the hospital room. He had to tell Catherine.  
  
She looked less angry now. She was half-lying on the bed, half- sitting on the chair beside it, her head resting on the sheets. She had a sad, hopeless expression on her face. The tears streaming down her cheeks only seemed to add to her despair.  
  
"Catherine?" Warrick asked, wondering if she had noticed him come in. She looked up, smiled a tiny bit. "How is she?"  
  
"Not any better."  
  
"What happened, anyway?" He asked, realizing he didn't even know how this had all started. "How'd she get hit?"  
  
Catherine sighed, almost reluctantly. "She was walking across the road to her friend's house. I told her she could go, but only if she looked both ways, and was back before dinner. She did look both ways, but a teenage boy in a brand new Camaro came flying around the corner, hit her straight on." The tears started again. "How could anybody do this to my baby?" She stroked one of Lindsey's fingers and sighed again.  
  
Warrick reached out to hug her, and this time she let him.  
  
  
  
Nick, Grissom and Sara were just getting ready to leave when the doctor exited Lindsey's hospital room and walked over to them.  
  
"Oh no.." Sara murmured, her eyes shifting toward Grissom. He reached out and took her hand in his, hoping to give her the strength he was pretending to feel.  
  
"What's the news?" Nick asked the doctor softly, fear flashing in his eyes.  
  
The doctor smiled weakly at the team. "Lindsey's in a stable condition. All we can do now is wait for her recovery."  
  
"But she's going to be OK, right?" Grissom asked, his hand still holding Sara's. His knuckles were turning white from her tight grasp, but he wouldn't even think about letting go.  
  
"As far as we can see, she's going to be fine. She'll require a lot of care, but her mother and step-father seem to be the kind that won't have any objection to that." The doctor replied, grinning. "I'll tell you something. I've seen a lot of patients like this. Little children scratched and cut and bruised so badly you can barely see any healthy skin. Most of them don't survive. That girl's got the soul of a fighter. She won't give up until she's back to normal."  
  
"She gets it from her mother." Grissom told him. "Can we go into see her?"  
  
"I don't see why not. But make it short, and remember, she's still very tired."  
  
The three of them nodded and walked to the room. Nick went in, but Sara stayed behind, pulling the back of Grissom's shirt. "Stop right there."  
  
He turned around and looked at her expectantly. "Yes?"  
  
"You really do love Lindsey, don't you?" She asked him, her face inches away from his. She could feel his slow, steady breathing on her face.  
  
"Like she's my own." He answered, fingering a lock of her hair.  
  
She smiled weakly, still too overwhelmed by his presence to grin. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. A daring gesture of something, she wasn't sure what. All she knew was that it felt right. 


	5. Confessions & Coffee Tables

Love Comes Softly

Part 5

Author''s notes: Here I am again, with part five. Hope I didn''t rush through things too quickly, hope you like, please r&r, be as generous as you have been in the past, dear readers. And in case anyone was interested, I''d love it if you e-mailed me or IMed me on AOL, all the information is in my profile. I just love talking to people :) And I''m nice, seriously, you can ask my friends!

Thanks: Thanks to everyone for reading this far, putting up with my incessant blabbing, thanks to the wonderful Tash, and of course the awesome Mooni, who is so kind and flattering when she reviews :) Thanks to Dulcey for putting up with my screaming, Lydia for putting up with me, in general, Kish and Kaitlin''s Friday CSI chats, and my first period math class for not mocking me when I screamed out spontaneously, ""I WANT TO SEE WARRICK SHIRTLESS!""

Enjoy.

NOTICE: After much research, I still have no idea what colour Catherine''s eyes are, so if I''m wrong, please don''t get mad! I checked and checked, but they''re always a different colour in the pictures! Sorries!

An unidentified number of weeks later...

Warrick walked into Lindsey''s room carrying a paper cup and a tray full of food. ""Here''s your coffee, Cath. I got a sandwich and some undercooked chicken for myself. I forget why."" He looked, disgusted, at the limp white meat on his tray, then over to the bed.

Catherine was fast asleep with her hand on her daughter''s forehead. Her face was turned towards him and he smiled at the peaceful expression on her face.

""Warrick?"" Lindsey''s voice caught his attention, and his eyes glanced over at the young girl lying in bed. He hadn''t known she was awake.

""Hey Linds. Did you sleep OK?"" He asked, concerned. Her movement caused Cat to stir, and eventually wake up.

""Yeah, I slept fine. I''m hungry."" Lindsey answered. Catherine blinked twice and grinned.

""Here, have some of my sandwich."" Warrick offered, breaking the bread in half and giving it to Lindsey. ""Want some, Cath?""

""No thanks, not hungry."" She looked happy, her face glowed. She sat up, breathing heavily and stretching. ""How long did I sleep?""

Warrick shrugged. ""I was gone for about two hours. I left to shower, get some clean clothes, then to the restaurant for some food. I met up with Sara and Grissom at the lab, set them straight about Lindsey''s condition, then came over here.""

Catherine raised an eyebrow. ""You were quite the busy boy."" Warrick grinned and blushed, saying nothing.

""That was a good sandwich."" Lindsey remarked, yawning. The weak look on her face made Warrick''s insides hurt. She was too young to be that weak. ""I''m tired again."" She said, setting her head down on the pillow. Before she could fall asleep, Catherine brushed the hair out of her daughter''s eyes and kissed her forehead.

""Warrick and I are going to go home for a while, OK? We''ll be back before you wake up, I promise."" She said, tucking the sheets into the mattress of the bed and smoothing out her hair.

""OK.""

Warrick marveled at how agreeable Lindsey always was. She was definitely better behaved than he had been as a kid. The doctors said her recovery was coming along wonderfully, but how long it would take before she was back to normal was still sketchy. They did say that she would be going home any day now, a fact that made Catherine ecstatic.

The two of them walked out of the room once Lindsey had drifted off into a peaceful sleep. ""Why are we going home?"" Warrick asked out of curiosity.

Catherine shrugged, pretending to be clueless. ""Just thought it might interest you..""

""Right.""

""Right."" She looked at him out of the corner of one of her eyes, then laughed loudly when she saw the provocative look on Warrick''s face. She grabbed his hand and leaned in closer to him as they walked out of the hospital and into the car.

""Sara."" Grissom greeted simply. ""Great work on last night''s case. Nothing passes under that eye of yours.""

""I''d like to think so."" She replied modestly, pouring herself some coffee. ""You didn''t do so bad a job yourself.""

""Thanks."" He stole her coffee mug and took a sip, but made a face. ""What is that!""

""Greg''s new brand.""

""Ah."" He gave her the mug back, then walked to the fridge to get something else to drink.

""Grissom?"" She asked, watching him as he moved. ""Did you get any word from the doctor?""

""I told you I''d call you when I did."" He answered calmly, sitting in the chair nearest to hers. ""But I understand that you''re anxious."" He laid a hand on hers. He didn''t know why he had done it, but the simple gesture of affection made him feel better somehow. Somewhere inside.

""I''m just worried. I want this surgery to come as soon as possible and to go well."" She shook her head. ""I just want this all to be over.""

""I know."" He sighed. ""So do I. So does everyone."" He stroked one of her knuckles with his index finger. ""Sara?""  
""Yeah?""

""I got this recipe from Catherine last night for a great meal. She says it''s better served for two."" He inhaled deeply. He was so damn nervous. ""Would you like to come over tomorrow night, help me eat it?""

She grinned, her eyes shining. ""I''m glad you asked."" She leaned over and hugged him, and he breathed in her scent as deeply as he could. ""Is six- thirty OK?""

""Six-thirty is wonderful."" He replied. Once she had left the room he picked up her mug again and drank what was left of the coffee. Just to calm his nerves.

The two of them sat down to a candlelight dinner that night. Catherine had set up the coffee table with some flowers, a simple meal and two glasses of wine. She was so excited for Warrick''s arrival. She saw him every day, but they never really got any time alone. Tonight was their night, and nothing could come between that.

He came at six-thirty, on the dot. He looked delicious in a blue silk button-up shirt and black pants. She was wearing her favourite blue dress, the one he always said matched her eyes. It was low-cut, short, and tight, and made her feel ten years younger. Something that was always a plus when she was around Warrick. Sometimes she felt like she was robbing the cradle.

""You look breathtaking."" He whispered in her ear, like there were others around. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her neck and she grinned.

""Let''s save that for after dinner, OK?"" She said, taking his hand and leading him to the coffee table. ""Sorry, my big table''s still in for repairs.""

""What happened to it?"" He asked, eyeing the carpet underneath his feet in a new way.

""The dog jumped up onto it and scratched the surface."" He smirked, and she knew what he was thinking. That she was a perfectionist when it came to her furniture. ""There''s nothing worse than an ugly table."" she argued.

""I could think of a few things, actually."" He reasoned, but kissed her before she could reply and sat down on the ground. ""Anyway, this is fine. This is great.""

""You really think so?"" She asked, for the first time that night showing her nervousness.

""Well, there is one thing I would change."" He moved the pillow he was sitting on closer to her. She smiled broadly.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. Warrick praised Catherine for a cooking job well done, first in words, then in other ways.. Things were going wonderfully and Cath couldn''t imagine a better way to end the meal than to tell him what she''d wanted to for almost four months now. A look at his face while he stared into her eyes and she knew the time was right.

""Warrick, I love you."" The words seemed light, like they were floating on the air. His eyes widened and the shock in his face scared her half to death. At first, he said nothing, and the silence in the room was suffocating.

He stood up, grabbed his jacket and croaked, ""Sorry Cath. I gotta go."" And then he fled out the door and left her alone with her tears.

The two of them sat down to a candlelight dinner that night at Mon Ami''s café in the Paris Casino. Grissom forgot every reason he took her here. They were known for their thirty dollar salads, a fact that hadn''t occurred to him when searching for fancy restaurants in the area.

""Oh Gil, the view is breathtaking. Look at the dancing waters!"" Sara pointed to the fountain and Grissom smiled, loving the sound of his first name on her lips. He wondered how many more times he would have the pleasure of hearing it.

""What should I order?"" She asked, once they were seated.

""I''ve heard the filet mignon is really good here."" He answered casually, deciding he would get that.

She smiled, glad to finally have the chance to show him up. "I''m a vegetarian, Gil."

He didn''t look surprised. "There''s always the salad."

She laughed, bopping him on the head with her menu, and watched as he smiled widely. She had always loved his smile, and she wondered why he didn''t use it more. Yet another secret about Grissom, she thought, and sighed.

The night was a total success, and later on Grissom found himself walking Sara to her door. He shifted, uncomfortable, not really sure of what to do.

""Thanks for tonight, Gil."" She said softly, lifting his chin with her index finger.

""You''re welcome."" He said. ""I know the original plan was to have dinner at my place but then Catherine called and asked to borrow my coffee table and it''s my only piece of furniture so-""

She cut him off with a kiss, something she had wanted to do all night. His only response was to kiss her back, only more forceful, trying to put everything he felt into it.

She half-smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. They stopped, both breathless, and Sara searched for what she wanted to find in his eyes. She found it.

""Wanna come up?""


	6. Lucky Girl

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter Six  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: This one came quicker than I expected it to. Going into this, I had no idea what I was going to do, but I guess I figured it out, didn't I? Nope, no hints, you'll have to read (oh the torture, I know)  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own CSI. If only..  
  
Thanks: Thank you Tash, for making me laugh with your hyper reviews! And thanks to the lovely Alisha (Kish) for reading my fan fics and TRYING to review them. Haha.  
  
Oh, how I love unresolved issues...  
  
Enjoy.  
  
  
  
The sun shone too brightly for her that morning. She expected, when she awoke, a dark, stormy sky with rain pelting down and the air of misery. Instead she got a sunny, cheerful sky with promises of a good day to every other human being besides her.  
  
She told the birds to shut up on her way to the bathroom. She had drank too much vodka the night before, resulting in a minimum of six trips to the toilet while the moon still hung in the sky. She thanked whatever God existed that her daughter was still asleep in her bed, that she wasn't awake to see her mother's face this morning.  
  
A tangled mess of backward pajamas, messy hair and runny mascara, she stumbled into the kitchen to make herself some coffee. The sun shone through the huge windows in the room that was too bright for her eyes to take. Groaning, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and sighed.  
  
So this is what she would be dissolved to without him. Hardly a human. She felt more like a cat, or some other animal that didn't care how they looked, or how they felt, as long as they got to sleep all day. Looking down at the ratty bathrobe she was wearing, she realized for the first time that it was his. Long, silky, and blue, he had always looked best in it while he was still waking up. She remembered the way his hair stuck up more than usual as he climbed out of bed...  
  
She shook her head free of thoughts of him. Deciding wordlessly to pull herself together, if for nothing else, then for Lindsey's sake, she left the table and walked to her bedroom. The clothes she had left on the floor the night before, while she searched for something to wear to dinner, were still there. Her makeup was still strewn across her dresser. The lingerie she had lovingly laid out on her bed was still mocking her, just as it had done every waking moment since he had left.  
  
She finally settled on wearing a simple outfit, running a comb through her hair quickly, and dotting some makeup under her eyes. Then she walked into Lindsey's room to wake her for school. She would only attend half a day, she didn't have the strength for a full one, but even the small activity made her daughter happy. And whatever made her daughter happy made Catherine happy.  
  
She wanted to cry when she saw the candles still sitting on the coffee table-Gil's coffee table- but she had no tears left. Her day would be about her daughter, until work came. Then... then she didn't know what she'd do. Maybe call in sick. Maybe brave seeing him, possibly even working with him. A thought that made her nauseous yet giddy simultaneously.  
  
  
  
  
  
He didn't like the colour of her bathroom. She knew he didn't, she saw it in his face. He didn't say anything, him being the ultimate gentleman that he was, but she knew it all the same. Truth be told, she had never liked it herself. Pink. So not her colour. It should be...green, or a dark purple. But, she reasoned, it *was* only a bathroom.  
  
"Sara, where do you keep your towels?" He asked, half-emerging from the bathroom, dripping wet and grinning.  
  
"I'll show you.." She said, one eyebrow raised flirtatiously. He laughed, letting her pass him and enter the bathroom.  
  
  
  
Later on, while they drove to work, she wondered if they had done the right thing. It seemed...spontaneous, something that Sara was not used to. She was almost certain that Gil wasn't, either, but she didn't dare to say anything to him about it. It had felt so right the night before, but now...she wondered if they hadn't acted too quickly.  
  
"How do you feel about a second date?" He asked her, maneuvering the Tahoe smoothly.  
  
"The first one went pretty well.." She replied, catching him smile out of the corner of her eye. She pretended to actually think about his question. "Why the hell not?"  
  
He laughed again, the third time that morning. The first had been as she tried desperately to remove herself from his chest without waking him, but found out from the chuckles escaping his throat that her efforts were in vain. It had been a beautiful way to wake up, and she wanted to continue it, make it a tradition. A ritual. A routine.  
  
"This time we're eating at my place, I don't care whether or not Catherine needs my damned coffee table for another date with Warrick or not." He said jokingly. She loved to see him happy, the way his face shone. She blushed at the thought that she had this affect on him.  
  
  
  
"Do you think it was too soon, Gil?" She asked softly, while she played with one of the buttons on her blouse.  
  
He didn't seem phased by her question. "No." He answered calmly. "Do you?"  
  
She grinned, every part of her happy. She loved him so much in that moment that it physically hurt. "No."  
  
  
  
  
  
Catherine somehow found the strength to drag herself to work that night. She dreaded seeing Warrick. She knew they had to talk, but she wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to face the fact that he didn't love her like she loved him, that she had said the one thing she never thought she'd be able to say and he had rejected her. It was so unlike him, and the memories of the night before still seemed, to her, surreal.  
  
He had made the first move that night in the break room. He had asked her out on their first real date. He had told everyone at work about them first. He was the first one to say that he saw this relationship going somewhere, that she meant more to him than he had ever expected. She had wanted to be the first one to say "I love you". And she had, but she was expecting a reciprocation of those three little words.  
  
Walking into the break room, she caught sight of Grissom and Sara sitting at one of the tables. Nicky was in the corner of the room playing a handheld video game. Warrick was nowhere to be seen. She didn't know whether or not she was thankful.  
  
Catching Gil's eyes staring at her, she quickly turned away so the team couldn't see her face and cheerfully greeted them good morning. Her happiness was fake, but she didn't care. She didn't want any of them to know what she was really feeling.  
  
"Morning, Cath." Gil said, along with the others. He stood up and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently turning her to face him. The look he gave her when he saw the bags under her eyes and the tears that often came without warning made her sigh. "What's up?" He whispered.  
  
"Nothing's up." She said simply, gently tapping her fingers on the counter surface.  
  
"Warrick's out on jury duty." He said. She recognized the tone in his voice as gentle pleading. Tell me what's wrong, I want to help, his eyes said.  
  
She exhaled the breath she'd been holding in her lungs and threw him a weak smile. "Come with me into the hallway." She took his arm in hers and waited patiently as he reassured Sara and Nick that he would be right back. She saw the way he paid special attention to Sara, and she knew he had feelings for her. She had always known.  
  
Once they were out of earshot, Grissom was th first to speak. "What happened?" He asked, his voice full of worry. Suddenly, a new thought entered his mind and Catherine saw the panic cross his features. "Lindsey's OK, isn't she?"  
  
"Lindsey's fine."  
  
"It's Warrick then." He just knew. He always just knew. Catherine had no idea how he had acquired this gift for looking inside of her mind, and she wasn't sure she wanted one. Gil was just Gil, and he would always be her very best friend.  
  
"How did you know?" She had to ask, even though she knew he'd never tell her the real reason. The real reason why he could read her mind.  
  
"Well, let's see. You've got messy hair, you're wearing next to no makeup, and different coloured socks. The last time I saw you like this it was after the whole fiasco with Eddie." She looked down at her feet. Dammit, he was right. One white sock, one black. "Catherine.." He put a finger on her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. "Talk to me."  
  
"He doesn't love me, Gil." The tears that coated those words made her sound even more broken, and finally she couldn't handle bottling up the devastation inside her any longer. "Wouldn't you know it? It's just my luck, I finally get up the nerve to tell him I love him, and he doesn't even feel the same way. God.." She released a shaky sigh. "I was so sure he was going to feel the same way.."  
  
He reached out to hug her. He didn't know what to say, but somehow he knew holding her would be enough. She was his best friend, and it tore him up inside to see her like this. He wanted to help her, but this was all he could do.  
  
"I'm going to tell you something about Warrick that you may or may not know." He started, but paused, wondering if he should let go of such a big secret. One look at her tear-streaked, grieved facial features and he made up his mind. "When he was younger, before he even became a CSI, he had this girlfriend. Her name was Mandy. She had black hair, blue eyes, she was thin, gorgeous, sweet, the whole package. Warrick loved her more than anything else. But she left him, suddenly, and he's never been the same."  
  
Catherine stared up at him, her blue eyes wide with sympathy. "Why'd she leave him?" She was almost afraid to ask.  
  
"Said he was suffocating her." Grissom told her, shrugging. "Since then he's been afraid of falling in love with women. He doesn't want that to happen again."  
  
Catherine looked down at the tiles beneath her feet, at Gil's brown suede shoes, at the way the heel of her sandal made a black mark on the ground whenever she moved it. "I should talk to him." She said finally.  
  
"It's what I was about to suggest." Gil said, pulling out a tissue from his pocket and offering it to her. "Warrick's not in for jury duty. I sent him home."  
  
His eyes told her what she needed to know. "I'll go." She said, hugging him. "Thanks for everything, Gil."  
  
She made a mental note to tell Sara that she was one lucky girl.  
  
  
  
Sara sat on the ground at Grissom's place, eating from a plate set on a wooden coffee table. "This is a really great meal." She commented, setting her fork down. She caught him grinning at her and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You look so cute when you eat.." He explained, reaching for her hand across the tiny table. "I hope you don't mind about the eating arrangements."  
  
"No way. I think the size of the table makes it all the more romantic." She said, and he caught a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but chose to ignore it. "I really like the candles."  
  
"Thanks." He didn't dare tell her he had borrowed them from Catherine.  
  
"Catherine talked to me today after work." The statement hung in the air, and Sara let it float over to his side of the table. "She told me what you did. How you helped her."  
  
"She's my friend. This thing with Warrick has really got her beat up and I can't stand to see her like that."  
  
"It was still really sweet of you."  
  
"What exactly did she say to you?" He asked, curious. He took a sip of wine, letting it swirl around in his mouth before swallowing it.  
  
"She told me, and these are her exact words, 'Sara, I gotta get home and change, but I just wanted to let you know how lucky you are to have a guy like Gil. He helped me out with some stuff with Warrick, and I just wanted to make sure... don't let him go.'"  
  
He tried not to blush. "It was very uncharacteristic of her, Gil. And it also brings up the question, how did she know about us?" Sara asked. She wasn't really angry, but she liked to pretend to be, just to see how he would respond.  
  
He held up his hands in defense. "Don't look at me! I didn't say anything." He scooted over to her side of the table and kissed her neck. "But she's right, you know. You are one lucky girl.."  
  
She giggled, relishing in the feel of his lips on her skin. "That I am."  
  
TBC! Please R&R 


	7. Elbows and Roses

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Awww, we get a sweet/romantic/sappy scene in this one! Wait a minute..we get two!  
  
Thanks goes to Tash, as always, because she's just so great at making me want to write the next chapter. And she gave me those ideas! Thanks also goes to anyone who bothered to R&R, you have no idea how happy it makes me!  
  
Disclaimers: The song "Whisper My Name" belongs to Randy Travis and his production company.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
  
  
She padded slowly up to his doorway, her hands shaking violently. Gently scolding herself for being so nervous, she took several deep breaths and tried to get brave enough to ring his doorbell. She had only been one day without him, but already it felt like an eternity.  
  
When she finally did get the nerve to ring the bell, he opened the door almost immediately. His hair was in its usual style, sticking up just the way she liked it. His shirt was mis-buttoned, his eyes wide and shining.  
  
"Catherine.." He whispered to her.  
  
I heard a freight train out across the way  
  
I heard a woman sing Amazing Grace  
  
I heard a night bird call to its mate  
  
When I heard you whisper my name  
  
I heard freedom break its chain  
  
I heard a heart beat where once no sound remained  
  
I heard angels rise and praise  
  
When I heard you whisper my name  
  
I heard music bring a heart of stone to tears  
  
I heard peace ring like an anthem through the years  
  
And I heard hatred fall from grace  
  
When I heard you whisper my name  
  
Beating softly against the waves  
  
Fell a sound of an early morning rain  
  
And though the lightning and thunder came  
  
I still heard you whisper my name  
  
And I heard angels rise and praise  
  
When I heard you whisper my name  
  
She tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth wouldn't turn. She was lost in the sight of him, the smell of him, lost in how much she loved him.  
  
He reached forward to hug her, his arms wrapping around her and meeting at the small of her back. "Come in." He said, once she had inhaled his scent.  
  
She was flustered, but did as she was told. She looked at her surroundings as if it were the first time she was seeing them. Warrick's soft, cushiony sofa. His blue, fluffy carpet. The tall steel coat rack where he hung her jacket after he had helped her take it off. He motioned for her to sit down on one of the chairs around the wooden table, but she shook her head, and headed for the sofa.  
  
"I'm sorry, Catherine." He said suddenly, and she jumped. His eyes pleaded with her to forgive him. They shone out at her, so many different colours. She smiled weakly, letting her head fall down to inspect her fingernails.  
  
"Sorry you ran off?" She had meant it to come out as a question, but it sounded like a statement. Like she knew what he was thinking, which she certainly didn't. She wished she did, but she didn't.  
  
"No." The word caught her off guard. He sounded gruff, angry almost. Had she upset him? She looked up at his face, and watched him as he crossed the room and sat down beside her. "No." He said it again, softer, more gentle. He lifted a finger and traced the outline of her jaw, then shook his head.  
  
"Then what? Sorry I said 'I love you'?" She asked, the tears at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill out. She almost couldn't bear the sadness that lived inside of her, that had been born the minute he walked out of her door.  
  
"No." He repeated, still staring intently at her. And then, he leaned forward, and whispered softly, "Sorry I didn't say it back." His breath felt warm on her face. "I love you."  
  
She smiled, a silent tear falling down her cheek. "I love you, too." She meant it more now than she did the night before, relishing in the feel of his lips on hers.  
  
He kissed her again, the passion escalating. His lips brushed the tears from her face, then he moved down to her chin, her neck, her collarbone. She inhaled deeply, running her fingers through his hair. He grinned as he moved down to the buttons on her blouse, and gently undid them, one by one.  
  
"Warrick, I can't. I told the babysitter I'd be home at ten." He stopped, sighing, and looked at the clock on the wall.  
  
"It's only nine fifty-five." She raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you at work before you came here?"  
  
"Sort of. I went to work, then went home, got changed, and came here."  
  
He grinned. "Aw, you switched shirts just for me?" He teased. "Call the babysitter, Cath. Tell her you'll pay her double if she waits another hour."  
  
"Or triple if she stays the whole night.." Catherine said, reaching over him to grab the phone.  
  
"Now, I like the sounds of that." Warrick commented, fingering her hoop earring while she dialed.  
  
"Hey, Jessica? I was wondering, is there any way you could stay the night at my place? I'll pay triple when I get home tomorrow morning. Something's come up." Catherine nodded, smiling. "Great. Seeya." Hanging up the phone, she turned to Warrick and kissed him. "Jessica doesn't mind."  
  
"Wonderful."  
  
"Can I ask you something?" She asked, and he reluctantly agreed. "Who's that?" She pointed to a picture in a frame on his coffee table, of a young girl smiling happily. The name Mandy came to mind when she saw it, and she wondered why she had never seen the picture before.  
  
"My sister." He answered, kissing her neck.  
  
"She's pretty."  
  
"Catherine..."  
  
"What?" She asked, thinking he was insinuating that she should shut up.  
  
"Marry me." He said. She covered her mouth with her hand and he watched as her eyes got wide.  
  
"Warrick, don't joke around."  
  
"I'm not joking. Marry me." He put a hand on her cheek, waiting for her answer.  
  
"We've only been together for four months!" She exclaimed. It came out the wrong way, and she winced when she saw his hurt expression.  
  
"Never mind, I don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable doi-"  
  
"Oh shut up!" She said, and pushed him so he was lying on his back on the couch. She kissed him several times before saying, "Of course I'll marry you, you stupid, stupid man."  
  
  
  
"Your elbow is in my eye." Her words cut into the silence of the tranquil morning, and he laughed.  
  
"Sorry." He removed his elbow, then turned to face her and give her a kiss. "Morning."  
  
"Morning." She replied, her voice still crackling from being half- asleep. "How did you sleep?"  
  
"Fine." He flung the blankets off of himself and crawled out of bed. "I'm going to make some coffee, you want any?"  
  
"I'm going to take a shower, actually." She replied, slowly getting out from under the covers and falling on the ground. She moaned. "I'm so tired."  
  
"Sorry for keeping you up so late last night." Grissom apologized with a glint in his eye, reaching over to help her up. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply. He loved this side of himself. "Have a nice shower." He said, letting go of her and walking to the other side of the room.  
  
Sara smiled and said, "Oh no you don't!" Then ran over to where he stood, grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bathroom with her. "It's a big shower, we'll both fit."  
  
Grissom didn't argue with her, just followed her in and closed the door behind him.  
  
  
  
  
  
Later that morning, they both sat on the love seat on the front porch, basking in the warmth of the beautiful summer day. Gil's hand intertwined with Sara's, her head lay on his shoulder. Two glasses sat on a table in front of them, still full with iced tea. Sara sighed, bringing her free hand up to Gil's face.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" She asked him, running the tip of her finger along the bridge of his nose.  
  
"You." He said simply, not moving his eyes from the sky. "And how beautiful you are. How you're making my life complete."  
  
She smiled. "Look at me." He did, and she kissed him, softly and slowly. She then brought her hand down to his chest, and played with one of the buttons on his shirt.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" He asked her, wondering how she could be so delicious in a pair of blue flannel pajamas.  
  
"How much you smell like roses." She laughed as he crinkled his nose in disgust.  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have sat in the garden with you. Now I smell like a woman." He complained.  
  
"Yes, but a manly woman." She said, her attempts at reassuring him purposely pathetic.  
  
"That's an oxymoron."  
  
"Oh, blah blah." She said, once again resting her head on his shoulder. "You liked the garden, just admit it."  
  
"I will do no such thing." He said defiantly, and kissed the top of her head. "Mm, you smell like roses, too."  
  
"That's just my shampoo. And it's 'Wild flowers', not roses."  
  
"Right. How silly of me." She giggled, loving the way they could joke around with each other. Sighing, she wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him tighter against her. "What?" He asked when she grinned at him.  
  
"Just thinking how lucky I am to have a man who will risk smelling unmanly just to make me happy."  
  
He kissed her, running his fingers through her hair. "Well, don't make a habit out of it." 


	8. The King of the Bubbles

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: OK, so this starts out sappy, becomes VERY angsty.  
  
Disclaimers: Blah blah blah, CSI is not mine. Does anybody even care if we add the disclaimer or not? Maybe someday I'll just forget about it and see if I'm struck by lightning or something.  
  
Thanks: Well, we've got a whole list today! As ALWAYS, Tash!!! You're so great, Tash! You're always saying such nice things about my writing, you make me want to keep going! Thanks also to Allison, for reading chapter seven before/during it was posted and reviewing :) And for the mutual love of pasta and chili that we share. And also thanks to Alisha, for reviewing chapter six, being funny, making me laugh, and not caring how many times I insult you, especially on my good days when I just can't contain myself.  
  
I wish now more than ever that I OWNED Warrick.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
Note: I have no idea how Warrick feels about TV or movies.  
  
  
  
She woke up for the fourth time that night, waiting for her eyes to adjust so she could stare at his face. Dark, beautiful, loving, it was always the one thing she liked most about him. The way he wore every single one of his emotions on it, the way it never hid anything. She felt like she could read his mind when she looked at his face, like she could always give him whatever he wanted if she only saw what she was supposed to see.  
  
He stirred, but didn't wake. No wonder, she thought, when she saw the digital alarm clock resting on the table beside her. 3:00 AM. The blaring red letters mocked her wide-awake eyes. She sighed, softly. Wished she could wake him but knew she'd never dare. Just watching him sleep was a blessing. And lately she'd been counting her blessings very carefully.  
  
She rolled over, deciding to try again to coax the sleep she knew would never come.  
  
  
  
He pretended to be asleep until he heard her breathing become even, the rising and falling of her chest slow and steady. Then he moved closer to her, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness so he could watch her sleep. The way her lips parted just slightly, the way her eyes, her beautiful eyes were hidden beneath her smooth eyelids. The way her hair blew so slightly when the wind came in through the open window.  
  
He'd never been a man drawn especially to movies, or television. Video games, sure, because they let him make use of his mind, but all of those things seemed so useless when he considered what he had lying beside him. The perfect woman, one he could never grow tired of watching, no matter what she was doing.  
  
  
  
He had never been so happy as he was now. One miraculous night spent in her company was enough to make him giddy, but now.... now she was going to become his wife. She was his fiancee. He could barely contain a smile as the words circled around his mind. Catherine Brown. It fit somehow. He almost laughed when he thought of what she would have to say to that.  
  
"Warrick Willows." She would probably retort.  
  
Things were so much different with her than they were Mandy. Ever since he started dating Catherine, he could actually think about his former girlfriend without tears coming to his eyes. Now the sadness had been totally lifted, along with his spirits. He was free.  
  
  
  
The bathtub was full of warm water and bubbles that Catherine had added just for fun. When Warrick saw them he groaned, pretending to be annoyed, but he grinned when she said,  
  
"Oh come on! Bubbles are so much fun!" He couldn't suppress his laughter. She was just like a little kid.  
  
"You're cute." He told her, holding both her hands and kissing her nose softly. "I guess I can live with the bubbles, if you prove as sufficient enough a distraction."  
  
"I can't make any promises." She said, putting one foot in the water and running it through. "C'mon, it's the perfect heat, hop in."  
  
He did as he was told, helping her in after him. The water smelled like she always did. The air around them was heavy and hot, and the mirror had already begun to fog up. He dipped a hand into the bubbles that lay on the surface of the water, and flung them in Catherine's face.  
  
She looked shocked for a few seconds, before yelling, "Now you're going to get it!" And flinging double the amount of bubbles at him, covering his face in white foam.  
  
He responded by pinning her against the wall of the tub and flinging more and more bubbles and water into her face until finally she sputtered, "Alright already! You win!"  
  
"Say it." He said, an evil glint in his eye.  
  
"I will not say it."  
  
"Just say it."  
  
She sighed, knowing he wouldn't let up until she did. "Fine." She finished wiping the foam from her face and looked directly at him. "You, Warrick Brown, are the king."  
  
"What was that? I didn't hear you."  
  
"Oh shut up." She said, giggling and swapping him on the arm.  
  
"Hey Cath, you were right. Bubbles are a lot of fun!"  
  
  
  
She got home early that night from work, but she was still dead tired. The farther up the stairs of her apartment building she climbed, the more her steps slowed, dragged almost. Finally, Room C13. She sighed and unlocked the door.  
  
As soon as she entered the room her senses clicked into action. The strange, fuzzy feeling of the atmosphere caught her off guard, and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She stood, motionless in the middle of her living room, and stared at a book lying face up on her couch.  
  
"The Art of Forensic Science by Wynette Deann.", sat still, mocking her. She hadn't touched that book in two years. Its place was on the bookshelf, where it had remained since she first became a C.S.I. Somebody had been in her apartment. A somebody that, she sensed, was still there.  
  
Her investigating mind went into overdrive. The couch cushion was crumpled, indicating someone had recently sat on it. She turned on the TV, the volume was set at 25. She never had it at anything but 10. The door of the bathroom was wide open, allowing her a glimpse of the yellow light pouring from it. It was then that she heard the slow, steady thump emanating from the far left side of her apartment.  
  
She grabbed her gun, and began to walk slowly to the washroom. She tried to quiet her breathing, but it kept coming in short, choked waves. She forced her eyes open when she reached the door. Swinging forward, her gun was her only protection against this unknown.  
  
She saw him sitting on the edge of the bathtub, tapping his foot against the floor. Thump, thump. He saw her, then, his blue eyes flashing with fear. He jumped.  
  
"Sara.." He said, but her gun remained pointed at him. He walked towards her and she saw that worry creased his face, playing with the ends of his eyebrows. "Sara, it's me. Put the gun down."  
  
She finally did as she was told, and he reached out to hold her. The hot tears scalded her cheeks. What had gotten into her?  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked quietly, gently, when she pulled away from his touch.  
  
"How did you get in here?" She asked him. He saw in her eyes that she was still afraid.  
  
"You gave me a key, remember?" He spoke to her like she was a child. She sighed and shook her head, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.  
  
"I'm sorry, Grissom." The use of his last name made him even more worried. Confused. There was something going on here that he didn't know about. "You just scared me."  
  
"Please don't ever point a gun at me again." His anger surprised her, and she turned and left the room, once again denying his offer of a hug. He followed her, though, and she heard his quickened, agitated steps behind her.  
  
"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" He asked her.  
  
"Why did you have the TV volume at 25? That's so loud." She remarked, completely ignoring his question. She went over to the black machine that rested on the wooden table and turned the power on. Glancing at the screen, the voices screamed out at them, echoing throughout the room. Sara winced. Grissom did not.  
  
"It's not loud for me." He answered, then moved to turn the TV off.  
  
"What's wrong? You don't like Frasier?" She knew she was being immature by avoiding the problem, but she really didn't want to hear any more of his questions.  
  
"Sara, what happened at work tonight?" She glanced at his face for half a second before moving her eyes to settle on the blank TV screen. The absence of the noise from it made the silence deafening.  
  
"Nothing. Just the usual stuff." He put a hand on her arm and pleaded with her silently to talk to him. She ignored his wordless request. "What's with all the stuff in the kitchen?" She pointed to the cooking ingredients and utensils that laid on the table.  
  
"I was going to cook you dinner." He stated simply. "You got home early, though."  
  
"Yeah, we were done the case. Warrick said for me to tell you to not take days off anymore, because Catherine is horrible at being supervisor." Grissom almost laughed. He knew she was using humor as a mask for frustration, which is why he remained silent.  
  
He was ready to give up on her altogether, until he saw the tiniest glint of a tear in the corner of her eye. "Sara?"  
  
She turned to him, her body shaking violently. She was trying to hold it in but the longer she tried, the harder it became. Finally she gave in. "It was a teenage girl, Gil."  
  
His heart broke, and he reached out to her. This time she let him hold her. "What happened?"  
  
"Her father... the bastard, he was raping her and-" She stopped to wipe a tear that had fallen down toward her lips. "She was too afraid to tell anyone, so she kept quiet. But then one night he got especially violent. He raped her and then he shot her. Twice in the head."  
  
Grissom and Sara both knew that a second shot to the head was not meant for killing someone, it was just a sick, disgusting way to show your cruelty. He shivered at the thought of finding that girl dead.  
  
He hugged her tighter, her sobs vibrating against his chest. Rubbing her back, the pain tore at his heart. Damn being professional to hell, he thought. Sometimes, when you get home from a case like this, you need to cry. He thanked God then and there that this time, Sara had someone to hold her.  
  
Once her cries had become softer, he lifted her from him and looked into her eyes. "Sara, I would never..." He stopped, taking deep breaths to steady his emotion. "Never do anything to hurt you."  
  
"I'm sorry, Gil." She apologized again, and this time she meant it. "I brought the case home. I was afraid. Seeing trust betrayed like that-" She referred back to the case, shuddering at the thought of the girl and her father. "I couldn't see straight."  
  
He hugged her again, kissing the top of her head. She stood up, taking his hand and motioning toward the bedroom. "Let's go to bed. I'm so tired.." Ironically, she then yawned. "I can barely keep my eyes open."  
  
He nodded, and followed her. They both crawled into bed, and she immediately nestled herself in his arms. He watched her breathing become even, and once he was sure she had fallen asleep, he felt it safe for him to do the same. 


	9. Big News

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: OK, so this chapter is kind of long. But is that my fault?! Well...OK..it is.  
  
Disclaimers: *yawns* What was the question?  
  
Thanks: To Tash, oh wonderful Tash! How I love your enthusiasm! Allison, Hedgey, Mooni, Alisha (are you and Catherine still dating???;)), etc! And thank you, for reading this! Also, thanks to the Pink Book, you can always give me inspiration. Thanks to the creator of Starburst. You make lunch hour more interesting.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
She stumbled out of bed that morning, sickness overwhelming her so much she could barely walk. She was so weak, she just made it to the bathroom in time to throw up everything she had eaten the past day. She groaned, flipping on the lights through the house as she dragged herself from room to room.  
  
The phone sat on the kitchen table, and she snatched it up, dialing Warrick's number. His voice, soft and familiar, sounded on the other line. "Hey Cat."  
  
"How did you know it was me?" Her feeble voice asked him, and she sat down on a chair to rest her aching body.  
  
"Caller ID. What's wrong? You sound like shit."  
  
"Thanks." She said sarcastically, running her fingers through her knotted and greasy hair. "I'm sick."  
  
"I'm coming over." He said instantly, and ignored her protests. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."  
  
  
  
It really only took him ten, but that was because he was a man on a mission. He rang her doorbell, but then let himself in, not wanting her to have to get up. He didn't know how sick she was, but judging by her voice, she was probably in bed.  
  
He was wrong. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, her face pale and pasty. Clammy hands grasped his as soon as he was close enough. He put a palm on her forehead and watched her roll her eyes.  
  
"Warrick, I've been sick like this every day, it's just starting to get worse now." Something passed through his eyes, but it was too quick for her to catch.  
  
"Every morning?" She nodded. He sighed. "You should see a doctor, Cathy. It could be bad."  
  
"It's nothing." Warrick knew Catherine well enough to tell that she was avoiding the problem, and that she would continue to do so until it was no longer a problem at all. There was nothing he could do but annoy her.  
  
"Any chance you might be pregnant?" He had asked the question because of hope, but something else shone through his words.  
  
"Pregnant? At my age?" She said, almost laughing.  
  
"You're not too old." He said, a hint of professionalism in his voice, something he knew Catherine wouldn't appreciate.  
  
"At your age?" She did laugh then, and he did too. She loved to tease him about the fact that he was younger than her. He didn't mind most of the time, and it helped Cat feel less awkward in some situations.  
  
"Anything else weird happen?" She knew what he was getting at, and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Nothing I'm going to tell you about." He knew by her voice when she was hinting for him to change the subject. Unfortunately, he didn't always listen.  
  
"At least go see a doctor." He pleaded, walking into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He heard her sigh behind him, but she conceded.  
  
"Alright. I'll set up an appointment right now." The phone was still sitting beside her, so she picked it up. "You can be pretty damn convincing sometimes, you know that?"  
  
"I have that affect on a lot of women." He said, and she giggled. Just having him here with her was starting to make the sick feeling go away.  
  
  
  
Sara and Grissom were playing checkers. The board was spread out in Grissom's living room, black and white against the dark brown of his hardwood floor. Sara was laying on her stomach on the ground, one hand resting under her chin to hold her head up. Grissom was sitting, cross- legged, opposite of her.  
  
"I can't believe I'm beating you." She said gleefully, his defeated game pieces in her free hand.  
  
"I'm letting you win because I feel bad." He lied, moving one of his few pieces across to another square.  
  
"Sure..." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "King me."  
  
He rolled his eyes, did as he was told, and leaned back so his shoulders were resting against his couch. "I've been thinking about what we should do if this surgery doesn't pan out."  
  
She looked up at him with renewed interest. "You mean if you lose your hearing completely?" He nodded, his eyes holding hers.  
  
"When you first came here, it said on your resume that you know sign language." He said. Strangely, he saw fear pass through her face.  
  
"I think I might have lost it." She stuttered, sliding another one of her pieces across the board. His hand reached out and landed on hers, stopping the movement.  
  
"No you haven't. How do you know sign language?" She shrugged, he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Just something I picked up in college." She shrugged nonchalantly and looked away from his face. "I'm still winning."  
  
"Let's leave the game alone for now, OK?" His voice was gentle, soft. Pleading, almost. "Sara, talk to me."  
  
"I am talking to you, Gil. Why do you always think there's hidden meaning behind everything? I learned sign language for the fun of it. I don't think I know it anymore, so can we just drop it?" Her voice rose with her anger. There was no doubt in Grissom's mind that something was, very definitely, going on.  
  
"I had a deaf mother, Sara."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"Because I told you. I didn't have to, but I did." The reasoning behind his words was simple. He wanted her to share something with him.  
  
She still wouldn't look at him, and she was now sitting up, her arms folded across her chest in a gesture of defiance. But eventually, the facade crumbled and she sighed. "I had a deaf sister. Her name was Heather."  
  
He moved over to where she was sitting. "Had?"  
  
She nodded, this time her eyes betraying her sadness. "She died when she was ten." Suddenly, Sara stood up from where she was sitting and moved to the bar, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Upon Grissom's puzzled and exasperated expression, she smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'll tell you the rest of the story. I just need a little alcohol in my blood first."  
  
  
  
  
  
She sat on the cold, steel chair, her feet wrapped around its legs. Her eyes, open, wide, unblinking, stared out at the doctor. His face was unfeeling, his eyes unmoving. His mouth had uttered the words she wasn't expecting to hear, and she couldn't bring herself to react to them.  
  
"Are you positive?" She finally managed to croak, still not moving.  
  
The doctor nodded. She felt his gaze settle on her face. She was too shocked to make any kind of expression. "But I was so sure.." She whispered.  
  
She left his office amid a cluster of helpful suggestions that she didn't need to hear. Shaking her head she blocked out the sound of his voice. She had heard it all before.  
  
Suddenly feeling hungry, she stopped at a McDonald's and ordered a disgusting, gooey cheeseburger. The grease seeped through the wrapping and onto her fingers. She stared at it for a few seconds before throwing the cheeseburger out, reminding herself that that kind of food was no longer appropriate. And that now, at this point in time, she could barely even swallow her own saliva without throwing up let alone chomp down actual food.  
  
On the drive home the real world started to settle in around her. First the road, then the bushes, the pink haze above the clouds that used to be the sun, before it set. She sighed, turning her car into his driveway. The navy blue Tahoe he drove already sat there, letting her know he was home. She slowly walked up to his doorway, letting herself in.  
  
"Warrick?" She called out, her voice cracking from the sudden burst of happiness she felt. "Baby, where are you?"  
  
He appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white towel half-wrapped around his waist. "Cath, what is it?" His eyes held the look of worry. "What did the doctor say?" She grinned, staring into his face and seeing nothing but nervousness. "Are you...?"  
  
She nodded. First he smiled, then raised a hand into the air and whooped for joy. Her laughter came as quickly as his and he reached down to grab her in his arms. He spun her around, and then kissed her, full of happiness and a thousand other indescribable feelings.  
  
She put a hand on each of his cheeks and looked into his eyes, seeing him for the first time as the father of her unborn child. She leaned in closer to whisper, "I love you."  
  
"I love you too." He said, and kissed her again. "And I'm going to be a dad." His disbelief made her smile again. "I can't wait." He said, and reached down to put a hand on her stomach.  
  
  
  
"She drowned. The whole family had decided to go swimming at the lake, so we hauled our stuff down there. Heather and I went swimming, mom and dad stayed on the beach. Heather went too far out. I told her not to, but she did anyhow. Mom and Dad were suntanning with the radio on, and couldn't hear me screaming for them to help. I swam and swam but by the time I got to her she was.." Her eyes locked with Grissom's before she continued. "..dead."  
  
No tears even formed themselves in her eyes. Gil observed this, silently, sitting in the leather chair watching her pace the kitchen. Her back to him, almost shutting him out.  
  
"If Heather could've heard my vocal warnings not to go out so far, she would still be alive." Her voice shook. Gil's index finger was resting on his chin thoughtfully, and Sara suddenly felt like a victim in one of their cases. He was still staring at her, completely silent.  
  
"I'm glad you told me." His voice cut through the silence harshly.  
  
"Why?" She asked, disbelieving.  
  
"I want to know about your past, about your life, about who you are." Was his only answer. He still hadn't moved.  
  
"Why? Why do you, in particular, care? No one else did, why do you?" Her voice was strained, like a scream, but it was so quiet to him that he had to move his head closer to her in order to hear it.  
  
He stood, clad in blue silk pajamas and a bathrobe. She waited for him to say something, anything, to answer her question. He didn't walk towards her, didn't move to comfort her, or even look like he was thinking about her question.  
  
Then his hands went up, and he began the quick, smooth movements. He watched as she watched him sign his message to her. His reply.  
  
Motionless, she stood away from him while it sunk in. She bent her head down, a lock of hair falling carelessly from the ponytail it had once been tied into. He waited patiently for her reaction to what he had just answered with.  
  
Her shaky voice rang out through the room, it felt loud in his ears. "I love you, too." 


	10. New Beginnings

Love Comes Softly  
  
Chapter Ten – Completion  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: This chapter is long basically because it's the last chapter and I had to wrap everything up. Thanks to you all for so graciously reviewing and sending me feedback via e-mail. To my friends for putting up with my endless chatter, and to Christina and Alisha for reading this before or after I posted. Alisha: I meant to ask you, how are things with Catherine doing? And sorry, no hot steamy bathtub scenes in this one, either. Christina: Since I mentioned Jack Daniels in the last chapter, I decided to add a few things in this one. Long live the bunny, drunk on beer and Jack Daniels, driving the zamboni, eating calamari, high off of helium and laughing evilly while swaying the finger in the air.. "Fingeerrrr" To Tash, for always being so enthusiastic towards me when I announced I had finished the next chapter. This story would not have been finished without you. For KatieBugg, for reading and reviewing this. To Allison, for R&Ring everything I write, and for our mutual love of pasta, and chili. To Amber, for being a nice person all around, and a wonderful, amazing writer. To everyone of you readers, for R&Ring :)  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own CSI, but it's sure been fun using them for my own personal joy. Nor do I own the song "Close Enough To Perfect For Me" by Alabama, and once again, not the song "I Love The Way You Love Me" by John Michael Montgomery.  
  
  
  
The scenery around Lake Mead was beautiful, and he found himself often stopping as they walked to turn towards the water and sigh. She grinned, waiting patiently beside him.  
  
"I've lived in this city 31 years, and I still can't get enough of this view." He breathed, watching the water in awe. Catherine smiled, trying not to think of when she had been here with Paul for information on the scuba diver case. How short of a time away that had been, but how it seemed like forever.  
  
She walked up to stand beside Warrick, wanting to be near him so she could forget about Paul. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him and sighed, closing her eyes. "What are you thinking?" She asked him when he didn't move.  
  
"Just how I missed so much of the great stuff about this place while I was a kid. It's weird, I had to grow up to start really being happy." He shook his head. "Most people are happier as kids than they are as adults."  
  
"Not me." She said. "I could never get away from my family." He looked at her, suddenly interested. She realized then she had never really told him about her childhood. "We lived on a ranch in Montana, and my three sisters were always getting me to do the dirty farm work for them. I used my horse, Dolly, as a refuge. She took me away from everything.." Catherine smiled softly, reliving the memory.  
  
Warrick nodded. "Hey, I know how you feel. Life at my house was really screwed up. After Mom died, my grandmother came in and took over. She was more strict than my mom had been, so it was a hard adjustment. I became really good at doing terrible things and hiding them from her." He looked almost ashamed, so Catherine put a hand on his arm and smiled.  
  
"Everybody's got a past, Warrick." She whispered. "God knows I do." Catherine had always been relatively open about her former life to anyone who asked, something he admired about her.  
  
"Yeah." He agreed softly, pulling her closer to him.  
  
"How did your mom die?" She asked him, feeling his heart beat underneath his shirt.  
  
He sighed, hesitating. "Cancer." The word rushed out of him like a sneeze, and he found he couldn't hold it back. "Everyone was devastated. When you don't have a dad, your mom becomes eight times more important in your life. After she passed away it was like there was something missing in the house. Even Grandma couldn't replace that. The worst part was that she tried."  
  
Catherine didn't know what to say, she didn't know if there was anything she could say, so she simply pulled him in for a soft, tender kiss and tried her hardest to smile. The pain was still evident on his face. She wanted to reach out and wipe it off, but she knew she would never be able to. She knew that contrary to popular belief, time doesn't heal all wounds.  
  
"Cat.." He whispered her name, his voice choked up and gentle. "I don't know where I'd be without you."  
  
She tried not to cry, but it was tempting. His hand was on her chin, and his index finger gently stroked her jawbone. She wanted to tell him that without her, his life would be so much easier. That he wouldn't be stuck with a pregnant 39 year-old with a nine year-old daughter. That he wouldn't be getting married, having his first kid, that he'd still just be wild young Warrick. But she didn't.  
  
She leaned in closer to him, her cheek against his chest, and breathed in the smell that always accompanied him. "Warrick, let's not wait four months."  
  
"What?" He asked, quietly, as if he wasn't sure he had heard her right.  
  
"Let's not wait four months to get married. I don't think I can, and I'm sure I don't want to." She tugged on his shirt sleeves and looked up into his face, waiting for his answer. She prayed then, for the first time in years. She prayed he'd agree.  
  
"Well, Cat..how long do you think we should wait?" His voice was rising with excitement.  
  
"Tomorrow?" She suggested. His eyes widened with the word, but he grinned.  
  
"Seriously?" He asked, shaking her shoulders lightly. "Seriously?!"  
  
"Next week." She said instead, realizing that they'd never be ready by tomorrow. He laughed, then grabbed her and lifted her off the ground, kissing her.  
  
"Next week it is, then." He set her down again and put a hand on her stomach, like he had done so many times before. "How long before he starts moving?" Warrick was convinced that the baby was a boy, even though Catherine refused to find out its sex until after it was born.  
  
"A while yet." She was smiling so widely her cheeks were numb, but she didn't care. She'd never been so happy in her entire life. "I can't believe we're doing this!" She giggled. "What day should the wedding be on?"  
  
"Saturday." Warrick said decisively. "I've got to call Lisa when we get home, she's going to be thrilled." He said, referring to his sister. He gave an involuntary shudder of excitement while still grinning. "I can't wait to tell everyone." He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. "Let's go home."  
  
She complied, following him slowly, deep in thought. He asked her what was wrong, but she only shook her head and gave a slight smile. "You wanna go swimming?"  
  
He asked her if she was kidding. When she said no he only snorted and started towards the car, but she grabbed him around the waist and pulled him towards the water. "C'mon Warrick, don't make a pregnant lady work so hard," she said when he tried to pull away from her. "Just come with me for a short little swim!"  
  
"Catherine, this is not exactly a beach!" He protested, pushing her arms away as she tried to pull his shirt off.  
  
"Doesn't matter.." She said simply, running and jumping into the lake, screaming out as her body hit the water. Her white blouse stuck to her skin as the freezing cold liquid washed over her. She ducked under the water and swam out farther, loving the feel of streaming water pushing itself against her face. She stood up, watching Warrick, still standing on the shore.  
  
He rolled his eyes, slowly peeling off his shirt and running after her, yelping when he realized how cold the water was. "Jeez Cath, you are definitely the weirdest woman I've ever known." She only laughed, splashing water in his face as he came nearer to her, gathering her in his arms and kissing her. "But I love you anyway."  
  
Sometimes her morning coffee's way too strong  
  
And sometimes what she says she says all wrong  
  
Right or wrong she's there beside me like only a friend would be  
  
And that's close enough to perfect for me  
  
Now she's been known to wear her pants too tight  
  
And drinking puts her out just like a light  
  
Heaven knows she's not an angel but she'd really like to be  
  
And that's close enough to perfect for me  
  
  
  
He stood outside her door, waiting to get the courage enough to ring her doorbell. He was sweating, but that wasn't odd, seeing as how it was July and this was Las Vegas. He wanted to go home and change his shirt, add extra deodorant, maybe even take a shower, but he was here now and it wouldn't make much sense to turn around when he was almost ready to talk to her.  
  
He took a deep breath in and rolled his neck, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in his pants. Finally, he reached out and rang the bell, his heart pounding as he heard her say from the other side of the door, "Who is it?"  
  
"It's Gil." He said softly, and realized how crackled his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and waited while she unlocked the door and let him in. He stared at how beautiful she looked in a sweatshirt and jogging pants, her hair hanging out of a ponytail.  
  
He gave her a quick kiss and sat down on the sofa, watching as her expression grew more and more worried. "What is it, is there something wrong?" She asked, sitting down on the ground in front of him and taking one of his hand in hers.  
  
"No, no." He said, shaking his hand. "I've got good news. It's just so good that I'm nervous to tell you."  
  
She frowned, confused, but didn't say anything. He smiled then, so widely that she was convinced there was nothing wrong. "I just spoke to my doctor. He said I can go in for surgery tomorrow. His estimation is a 90 percent of total restoration of my hearing."  
  
She looked shocked at first, but then squealed and jumped into his lap, wrapping her arms around him and grinning. "That's great!"  
  
He laughed, pulling her closer to him. "I thought you'd think so."  
  
When the both of them were silent moments later, she walked over to the window and stared outside, at the rain that had suddenly begun falling in thick, heavy drops. "It's raining." She stated simply, her smile still wide.  
  
He nodded. "Good. It was stifling before, maybe it'll cool down a bit." She was still looking at him oddly, her expression one he couldn't place. "What?" He asked as she moved towards him and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Ever danced in the rain, Gil?" She asked him, her eyes doing dancing of their own as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.  
  
"You're kidding." He knew she wasn't. She shook her head, pulling him by the hand to the doorway. "At least let me change." She looked at him without words, her facial features never changing.  
  
"You're seriously going to make me do this, aren't you?" His question was never answered, because as soon as he asked it Sara was yanking him down the stairs and out into the pouring rain.  
  
The cold liquid fell onto him and he shivered, watching in fascination as his white shirt became wet and see-through. He looked over at her, her face was happy, peaceful, as she turned it toward the sky and let the rain wash away what little makeup she wore.  
  
She pulled him closer to her, swaying with him to music that was never heard by anyone but them. She hummed, softly, a tune that was unrecognizable to him, but still beautiful. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the rain and of her and of everything else around him that he never saw. He never saw anything but her wet body moving slowly in front of him. Her smiling face glowing up at him.  
  
The way you convinced me to dance in the rain  
  
With everyone watching like we were insane  
  
But I love the way you love me  
  
Strong and wild, slow and easy  
  
Heart and soul, so completely  
  
I love the way you love me  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
"This place is beautiful." Catherine breathed, following Warrick into the restaurant. He turned toward her briefly and grinned before continuing to lead her to their table. He pulled a chair out for her and lingered behind her for a few seconds, taking the time to smell her hair.  
  
"Any idea what you want to order?" He asked her, watching her every move as she straightened out the front of her dress and cleared her throat.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe a steak, or some spaghetti." She looked up at him and grinned. "This is so sweet of you Warrick."  
  
He smiled back. "I'm going to order some Chilean Merlot and... a filet mignon." He nodded in satisfaction. "Medium rare." He added softly, more to himself. Catherine watched him in odd fascination.  
  
Warrick looked up at her, seeing through the crystal of her blue eyes into the worry that lay underneath. "What is it, Cat?"  
  
She looked down at her plate, playing with the corners of the glass and not daring to look at him. Finally, she stared up at him. "Warrick, are you happy?"  
  
He was taken aback by the question, and Catherine saw as much. He saw she was seriously wondering if he was anything but ecstatic just to be with her. "Why would you ask such a crazy question?"  
  
She didn't change her expression. "Just answer."  
  
He chuckled softly. "Of course I'm happy, Catherine. I've never been more happy in my entire life. I'm ecstatic, I'm on top of the world, I wake up every day thinking my life couldn't possibly get any better and every day I'm proved wrong.  
  
At first she didn't look convinced, but when he leaned over and kissed her softly and said, "And I've been married to you for one whole year.", she believed him. "Happy anniversary baby."  
  
"Yeah, same goes." She said and leaned on his shoulder. "I'm happy, too." She sighed, brushing a lock of hair away from her eyes. "I'm really, truly happy."  
  
  
  
He picked up the phone and dialed the number he now had memorized, waiting as it rang and praying silently she would pick up. She greeted him softly.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey." He said, listening as the sweet sound of her voice resonated through his head. "Guess what?"  
  
"How did the appointment go?" She asked him instead of guessing. Her breathing was quick and heavy. She had recognized his voice instantly.  
  
"Guess what?" He said instead, tapping his fingers against the wood of his night table.  
  
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I give up."  
  
"You can't. You have to guess." He could almost see her grinning. "Come on, just one guess."  
  
She tried to think of the most bizarre thing she could answer with. "You just found out that you have a daughter in Canada."  
  
"How did you know?" He asked her, leaving his voice void of any sarcasm purposely. She didn't say anything, obviously trying to figure out whether or not he was joking.  
  
"Yeah right." She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him laugh loudly on the other end of the phone.  
  
"The doctor says I'm all cleared up. My hearing is almost completely restored." She tried not to cry, but the happy tears forced themselves out of the corner of her eyes. She exhaled.  
  
"I'm coming over." Her voice sounded strange even to her own ears.  
  
"OK." He complied, ready to say goodbye until he remembered something else he needed. "And Sara?"  
  
"Yeah?" She asked, already thinking of what she would change into.  
  
"I love you." He waited patiently for her to say it, waited patiently for the feeling he always got whenever he heard her say it to him. That calm, tingle that started at the top of his head and traveled all the way down to the tips of his toes.  
  
Smiling, she took a deep breath. "I love you too, Gil."  
  
The end.  
  
Note: I would really, really, really appreciate it if you reviewed this fan fic or e-mailed me to tell me what you thought of it overall. I know people don't usually review fics after the last chapter, but I'd appreciate it muchly! Thanks! – Marita 


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